


The Smartest Idiot in Hogwarts

by darkestlordsaroon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Panic, Gay Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, POV Sirius Black, Sexual Frustration, Smut, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkestlordsaroon/pseuds/darkestlordsaroon
Summary: Sirius has spent all year being distracted by Remus and trying to deny it. What he'd never imagined was that Remus has been doing the exact same thing.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 498





	The Smartest Idiot in Hogwarts

The classroom is stifling. Sirius has already rolled up his sleeves as far as they’ll go, and he can still feel his shirt sticking to his back underneath his robes. A window is cracked open on the far side of the room, but the weather outside is humid and oppressive and the air coming in just makes everything stickier.

Sirius shifts uncomfortably in his seat, fully giving up on trying to keep track of what Professor McGonagall is saying. If he’d have known N.E.W.T level Transfiguration would be almost completely theoretical rather than practical, he would have given it up this year. Even on his best days, when he doesn’t have to contend with feeling like he’s just walked out of a sauna, it takes every ounce of his concentration to not wander off and daydream.

Not like Remus. Remus thrives in theoretical classes. Even now, with beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face, he is hunched over his roll of parchment, scribbling furiously. Sirius will have to convince him to borrow his notes, later. Remus always puts on a show of not sharing his notes, saying it’s penance for Sirius’ laziness. But he always gives in.

Sirius grins as his gaze settles on his friend’s back. Remus has not rolled up his sleeves; even in the hottest of weather he keeps his shirts long and buttoned down to the wrists. Sirius has tried many times to get him to relent, to wear a vest in hot weather, to come swimming with them in the lake. Sirius claims that anyone who matters already knows about his lycanthropy, and therefore won’t care about his scars. But Remus is too self conscious.

Not for the first time, Sirius feels a pang in his chest at the thought of Remus thinking so little of himself. If he could only see what Sirius sees, if he knew how kind and loving and beautiful he is…

 _You could tell him_ , says a voice in Sirius’ head.

Remus sits up straight in his chair, rolling his shoulders back, twisting slowly to each side with a series of clicks and pops. He catches Sirius’ gaze as he turns his head to relieve this stiffness in his neck, and he smiles before turning back to the front of the classroom, shaking out his quill hand. Sirius’ throat tightens at his smile.

He could never tell Remus. For one, Remus isn’t attracted to men. Or at least, as far as Sirius can tell. Sirius had come out this past summer, after running away from his parent’s house. He’d wanted a fresh start, away from the hate and prejudice and disdain, and that meant being truthful to himself and to those he loves. A very small, over imaginative part of Sirius had hoped that with his own declaration, Remus would scoop him up in his arms and say that he, too, is gay, and has been in love with Sirius for years. Needless to say, that hadn’t happened.

“Would you care to join us, Mr Black?”

Sirius starts at his name, blinking rapidly and looking up at Professor McGonagall. A few students, including Remus, have turned in their seats to look at him. Sirius feels a flush rise in his cheeks at Remus’ smirk, but keeps his eyes trained on McGonagall.

“Sorry, what?” Sirius says, making sure he sounds as insolent as possible.

Professor McGonagall breathes out sharply through her nose, nostrils flared. 

“I can assure you that the material you will need for your exams next week is not written on the back of Mr Lupin’s neck,” she says curtly.

Remus’ eyes widen slightly and he turns back to his desk, ears red.

“Noted,” Sirius responds bitterly, picking up his quill and stabbing viciously at the empty parchment in front of him. 

McGonagall resumes her lecture, and Sirius can’t help but glance at Remus once more. His shoulders are stiff, and the entirety of his neck is bright red now. Sirius heaves a sigh that he feels all the way down to his toes, and slumps down in his seat.

\---

When class finally lets out, Remus is gone before Sirius has finished stuffing his book and parchment (now full of doodles of dogs and crescent moons) into his bag. He scans the corridor but doesn’t spot Remus. He sighs yet again and joins James to head down to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Need my notes?” James asks, offering Sirius a roll of parchment.

“Nah,” Sirius waves it away. “I’ll take Moony’s.”

“You know he won’t let you.”

“ _You_ know he will.”

James grins. “Suit yourself.”

“Where’d he go, anyway?” Sirius cranes his neck in one last attempt to find Remus in the rush of students crowding the entrance hall.

Jame shrugs, eyes locked onto a certain redhead walking a few paces ahead of them. “Full moon tomorrow, maybe he’s not feeling well.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Sirius thinks of the alarm in Remus’ eyes when McGonagall called Sirius out for staring at him. The flush in his neck, the stiffness of his shoulders. Sirius curses himself.

Peter’s already at the table, chatting with Mary. Neither of them are taking Transfiguration this year, choosing instead to continue with Divination, of all things. James and Sirius had spent a solid three months teasing Pete about it.

James hurries to catch a seat next to Lily and Sirius rolls his eyes, sitting down opposite them. James has, for the most part, gotten better at talking to Lily. At least he’s stopped overtly showing off, puffing out his chest and messing up his hair every time she passes. Lily seems to have relaxed around him as well, and Sirius just knows that this time next year they’ll be the sappiest couple in Hogwarts. Sirius scowls, glaring at his best friend. James raises an eyebrow and Sirius sticks out his tongue.

Someone slides into the seat next to Sirius, and Remus’ long arm reaches across him to grab the mashed potatoes. The scowl slides off Sirius’ face.

“Moony! Where were you?”

“I had to hand in my Charms essay to Flitwick,” Remus says, ladelling gravy over his potatoes.

“Oh, right.” 

Remus always misses the last class on the day of the full moon. Madame Pomfrey insists he check in to the hospital wing three hours before sundown.

“You feel alright?” Sirius asks in a low voice, just managing to stop himself from reaching over to touch Remus’ hand.

“Same as ever,” Remus smiles at him and Sirius feels a weight lift of his chest. He turns to his dinner, grinning like an idiot.

\---

Sirius steps under the stream of water, gratefully letting it sluice away the layer of sweat sticking to his body. He turns the water as hot as he can handle, groaning with pleasure as it pounds the knots between his shoulders.

His mind wanders as he lathers his hair with shampoo, scrubbing hard at his scalp. It inevitably wanders to Remus, wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through _his_ hair, massage his neck, his strong, broad shoulders. Sirius sighs as he rinses out the shampoo, feeling pathetic. 

Is this what his life is? Fantasising about his best friend in the shower? Too scared to ever speak up, tell him how he feels?

It wouldn’t accomplish anything, Sirius tells himself firmly. He would tell Remus how he feels, Remus would reject him, and they’d spend their last year at Hogwarts being awkward and avoiding each other. Sirius could never risk his friendship like that, it’s too important to him.

Sirius thinks of Remus’ soft brown eyes, long curling lashes, the trail of freckles leading down his neck underneath the collar of his shirt. He reaches down to stroke himself slowly. If all he’ll ever have is wanking in the shower, he’d better make the best of it.

\---

Feeling completely refreshed after his shower, Sirius is almost whistling as he walks into the dorm room, towel wrapped firmly around his waist. James and Peter are serving a detention with Slughorn, and Sirius had expected to have the room to himself. But Remus is lying fully clothed on his bed in the dark, one arm flung over his eyes. Sirius can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not, and he tiptoes over to his bed as quietly as he can, slipping into his pajama bottoms.

“Pads?” Remus’ voice is hoarse.

Sirius turns to him. Remus has moved his arm down to his chest, and is looking at Sirius intensely. His eyes glow almost yellow in the light from Sirius’ bedside lamp.

“Yeah?” Sirius tries to sound as casual as possible.

“C’mere.”

Sirius’ heart leaps to his throat. He walks to Remus’ bedside, not knowing if he should sit or keep standing. “Is everything okay?”

Remus shifts into a sitting position and pats the empty bit of mattress next to him. His eyes are bright and wide and Sirius is suddenly aware that he hasn't put on his shirt yet. Sirius sits gingerly on the edge of the bed.

“I was thinking,” Remus says hesitantly, biting his lip.

“Always a dangerous start,” Sirius says automatically. Any second now his heart is going to leap out of his mouth and run away.

Remus’ face twists in an odd mixture of frustration and amusement. He makes a strangled sort of noise in his throat, then leans forward. His hand is on the back of Sirius’ neck, he’s pulling Sirius towards him, Sirius is frozen in shock, and then Remus is kissing him and Sirius’ brain shuts down.

Remus’ lips are soft and gentle, his fingers tangle in Sirius’ still-wet hair. Sirius presses a hand against his chest, feeling his racing heart, leaning into the kiss. His senses are on fire with the feel of Remus on his mouth, under his hand, on his neck. Remus’ tongue brushes his lower lip and he can’t believe this is happening, finally. 

Just as he thinks it he pulls away, brain catching up with the instincts of his body. He’s breathing hard, heartbeat loud in his ears.

“What?” he asks Remus, too confused and overwhelmed for more than that.

“I started to explain,” Remus says, and he has the audacity to _smirk_. 

“Yes, well, explain.”

“I, just…” Remus’ eyes flick down to Sirius’ lips and Sirius leans forward again, stopping himself just a couple of inches from Remus’ face. He closes his eyes to block out Remus’ golden eyes, his flushed cheekbones, swollen lips.

“Do you really want this?” Sirius whispers.

Remus doesn’t answer, at least not in words. His arms wrap around Sirius’ waist and he kisses him, long, slow and deep. A high pitched moan escapes Sirius as he leans completely against Remus, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. Remus’ fingers trail up Sirius’ spine and Sirius shivers.

Sirius loses himself in the sensations, every place Remus’ fingers touch burns. Remus smells of ink and sweat and chocolate and Sirius is drowning it, drowning in him. Remus’ mouth trails down Sirius’ jaw to his neck, licking and sucking. Sirius groans as he throws his head back, Remus’ hand tugging at his hair.

Remus freezes, and Sirius’ stomach drops. Has he come to his senses? Realised what he’s doing, _who_ he’s doing it with?

“They’re coming,” Remus says, breath hot on Sirius’ neck.

“Who?” Sirius says stupidly.

“James and Pete.”

Remus all but pushes Sirius off the bed in his rush to button his shirt. A cold wave of shame washes over Sirius as Remus avoids looking at him, flushing so intensely his freckles have disappeared.

James and Peter enter the room and Sirius turns his back to them, painfully aware of the tenting in his thin pajama bottoms. He crawls into bed and pulls the curtains shut around him.

“Alright, Pads?” James calls.

“I’m going to bed,” Sirius responds, casting a stabilising charm on his curtains so they can’t be drawn aside.

“I’m going to shower,” he hears Remus say, his voice strangely high pitched.

“Why didn’t you do that when we were in detention?” Peter whines. “I stink!”

“Yes, well, so do I,” says Remus, and the bathroom door clicks shut behind him.

Sirius knows his friends well enough to know that James and Peter are exchanging significant glances at their odd behaviour. Sirius can’t bring himself to care. His body is buzzing with anger and disgust and shame and he doesn’t know if it’s directed at himself or at Remus. Well, he’s pretty sure most of it is directed at Remus.

Remus, who did _exactly_ what Sirius has spent the last year holding back from doing. And all of these negative, hurtful feelings bubbling up inside of him right now are _exactly_ the reason that Sirius, for once in his life, held himself back. Remus is probably disgusted with himself, disgusted with Sirius, and Sirius doesn’t know how he’s supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow.

A lead ball of dread settles in the pit of Sirius’ stomach. He rolls over, presses his face hard into his pillow, and screams.

\---

The next morning, Sirius waits until he hears Remus leave for breakfast before he gets out of bed. James is eyeing him suspiciously, and Sirius knows he’s dying to ask what’s happened between them. But he also knows that James is a good friend, and won’t bother him until Sirius is ready to talk about it. 

Which he never will be.

Because nothing happened.

Sirius is a firm believer in “fake it till you make it”. And if he has to tell himself a thousand times a day that nothing happened between him at Remus last night in order to be able to _act_ like nothing happened, he will do so relentlessly. As for Remus, master of taking secrets and feelings to his grave...well, he’ll be alright.

Sirius makes it to lunch without incident. He and Remus have successfully avoided each other all morning, sitting on opposite ends of classrooms, not making eye contact. It makes Sirius’ chest ache, but it’s necessary. At least for now. At least for today.

At lunch, Remus sits next to Lily. James, who’d just been about to claim that spot, splutters indignantly.

“I was going to sit there!” he says to Remus, actually taking Remus’ arm and attempting to remove him physically from the bench.

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Well, I got here first.”

“But that’s my spot.”

“There are no _spots_.”

“There are. You sit next to Padfoot and I sit next to Evans.”

“Oh for goodness sake, Potter,” Lily interjects. “Just sit down.”

“Tell Remus to just kiss and make up with Sirius so I can have my spot back.”

Sirius feels the blood rush from his face at James’ words. Across from him, Remus’ eyes are flashing as he shoves to his feet.

“Fucking hell, Potter,” he spits angrily, snatching up his bag and storming down to the far end of the table to sit alone.

Lily stands up as well, gathering her things. “What is _wrong_ with you?” she snaps at James, following Remus.

James is left gaping after them, opening and closing his mouth several times in disbelief. Peter tugs him by the sleeve to sit down, and James turns to glare at Sirius. Sirius sips his pumpkin juice.

“Smoothly handled,” he says.

“What the hell happened with you two?” James snarls.

“Nothing,” Sirius says, shoveling shepherd's pie in his mouth in an attempt to ward off James.

James’ eyes narrow behind his lenses. “You’re going to tell me eventually,” he says.

“If you say so.”

“And I’ll make you apologise to Evans for me.”

“Sure.”

“Leave him alone, Prongs,” Peter says, spooning pie onto James’ plate. James glowers but acquiesces, digging into his food.

“We’re still on for tonight?” Peter asks Sirius carefully.

“Of course,” Sirius responds vehemently. 

He wouldn’t let anything ruin the full moons for them. Not when it’s so important to Remus, when it’s the only thing that prevents him from hurting himself.

 _And what about when he hurts you?_ A nasty voice in his head speaks up. Sirius shakes it away. This isn’t the same. This is hurt feelings, as opposed to Remus literally tearing himself apart. No matter what Remus could say to him, could do to him, Sirius would not allow that to happen again. 

_He’s using you_ , the voice says again, louder. _To help on his full moons, to relieve some sexual tension, but what do you get in return? Do you really expect him to want a_ relationship _with_ you _?_

Sirius stands up abruptly, blood rushing like fire through his veins. James and Peter look up at him in alarm but he pays them no mind. He needs to get out, away, to clear his mind. He’ll head to class, sit for half an hour in an empty classroom if that’s what it takes.

He practically runs towards the door of the Great Hall. He sees Remus glance up at him as he passes, but Sirius doesn’t look back.

\---

That night, the three of them head down to the Whomping Willow under James’ invisibility cloak as usual. They wait until Madame Pomfrey has disappeared back up towards the castle before Peter transforms and rushes forward to press the knot that stills the Willow’s flailing branches.

They’re silent all the way through the tunnel to the Shack. Sirius feels anxious, when he should be feeling _relief_. Relief to put aside the complicated human emotions and just live in the animal instincts to run and chase and play.

James pushes the trapdoor up and they climb through one by one. Remus has already stripped and placed his clothes in a carefully folded pile high up on a dusty bookshelf. He sits on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes shut tight.

“Hurry,” he says, pain straining his voice. “Soon.”

They scurry for the next room, Peter already back in rat form. Remus had requested back when they’d started accompanying him on full moons that they not watch the transformation. And Sirius has no desire to. It’s bad enough just hearing it.

He’s just slipped behind the wall when Remus screams and the horrible sound of cracking bones fills the Shack. Sirius closes his eyes, heart aching for his friend. Remus’ screams are growing louder and more desperate, and then comes the awful moment when they transform into a wolf’s anguished howl.

Prongs nudges Sirius’ face with his nose, and Sirius nods sharply and sinks to the floor on all fours, tail between his legs.

\---

When Sirius wakes up the next morning, his whole body hurts. It had been a rough night. The wolf had been unusually restless and energetic, and it had taken all of James and Sirius’ strength combined to keep him within the boundaries of the forest. They hadn’t even made it back to the Shrieking Shack before sunrise; Prongs had carried Remus’ limp body on his back and the three of them had _just_ managed to throw the invisibility cloak over themselves when Madame Pomfrey pulled herself up through the trapdoor.

James and Peter are rustling around the dorm room, making enough noise that Sirius is sure they’re trying to wake him up on purpose. He pulls back the curtains surrounding his bed and glares at James, who is grinning widely.

“Morning!” James says brightly. “We’re going to go visit Moony before breakfast. Coming?”

Sirius glares harder than he’s ever glared before and James’ smile falters.

“I’m going to shower,” Sirius says, heading for the bathroom and all but slamming the door behind him.

“So that’s a maybe?” James calls after him.

Sirius sighs and reaches for his toothbrush. He wants to see Remus, of course he does. He always wants to see Remus, and that’s part of the problem. He’s not entirely sure Remus wants to see _him_. The hopeful balloon of happiness that had swelled up in him when Remus kissed him has been punctured and deflated to a flat mess of shame and pessimism. After all, Remus made no effort to talk to him afterwards, to explain himself. He kept his distance just as much as Sirius did. And when James had made a throwaway remark about them kissing, Remus had nearly hexed James’ ears off.

As much as he longs to talk to Remus and be near him again. He’ll wait until Remus is ready.

 _Because you’re a fucking coward_ , the voice in him hisses.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says aloud, scowling at his reflection in the mirror.

“Well I never!” the mirror gasps in horror.

\---

Remus rejoins them in Potions after lunch, looking tired and pale. He hovers for a moment in the doorway to the classroom, scanning for a free seat. James and Peter are already paired up at the desk next to Lily and Marlene; there are only two seats available, next to Sirius in the back or next to Snape right up front. Sirius feels a wave of anxiety rush over him as Remus approaches his desk and lifts Sirius’ bag off the bench to sit down.

“Hey,” Remus says quietly.

“Hi,” Sirius responds, yawning widely.

Sirius has hardly been able to stop yawning all throughout the day, and the coffee he drank at lunchtime has only made him jittery. At least sitting next to Remus has its perks; the day after the full moon, the teachers almost always leave him alone.

Slughorn has already begun his lecture. They’ve been working for two lessons now on the theory behind the Draught of Living Death, and Sirius is itching to start actually brewing. Slicing, crushing, anything he can do with his hands that will distract him from Remus’ presence next to him. But Slughorn is not making any moves towards his cauldron, and as he waves his wand a list of bullet points scrawl themselves across the blackboard and Sirius groans.

Remus has already pulled out parchment and is scribbling away. Sirius dips his own quill into his inkwell and squints at the board to try and decipher Slughorn’s impossibly loopy cursive. His elbow knocks Remus’ as they write; with Remus right handed and Sirius left, they really should have sat on opposite sides of the desk.

Sirius’ eyes glaze over as Slughorn drones on, gesticulating every so often with his wand to make a point. He looks over at Remus, bent over his parchment. He has deep purple bags beneath his eyes, and he almost looks as though it is physically paining him to concentrate on Slughorn. 

Sirius nudges his knee against Remus’ and Remus looks up.

“You okay?” Sirius whispers.

Remus smiles faintly and shrugs one shoulder before returning to his notes. Frustrated as Sirius is with him, it’s difficult to see Remus in obvious pain. He’s so stubborn, insisting on coming to classes the day after the full moon. It’s an ongoing argument between them, one that Sirius never wins. 

Sirius keeps his leg pressed softly against Remus’. Remus doesn’t pull away. After a minute, Sirius glances over at him again to see Remus’ cheeks have gone pink and a slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

Remus tears off a corner of parchment, writes a short message, and slides it over to Sirius. Sirius takes it and his heart leaps to his throat.

 _I’m sorry,_ is all it says.

Sirius doesn’t know what to do. Sorry for kissing him? Sorry for pushing him away? Sorry for ignoring him? Sorry for taking him for granted? His hands are shaking, heart pounding loudly in his ears.

Another note is pushed into his line of sight.

_We should talk. Tonight?_

Sirius looks up at Remus. His whole face is flushed and he’s biting his lip anxiously.

“Okay,” Sirius whispers, and Remus smiles tentatively. 

Sirius turns back to his roll of parchment, even though there is absolutely no chance of him concentrating on anything Slughorn is saying. Remus shifts next to him so their thighs are touching all the way, and Sirius forgets to breathe for a long moment.

\---

Waiting until the evening is torturous. Remus seems intent on making the wait as uncomfortable for Sirius as he possibly can. For the rest of Potions, Sirius’ brain is a scrambled mess. In Charms, Remus sits directly in front of him, and Sirius stares so intently at the back of his neck that he miscasts his Cheering Charm and sends Peter into a hysterical sobbing fit. 

“Please concentrate, Mr Black!” Professor Flitwick admonishes, casting the countercharm on Peter.

“Sorry, Pete,” Sirius mumbles while Peter sniffles.

Remus grins at him over his shoulder and Sirius could just punch him.

At dinner, James is delighted to see Remus sit next to Sirius again. Most likely for his own benefit, as he slides onto the bench next to Lily, who rolls her eyes.

“So you two are over it?” James says, glancing between the two of them.

“Kiss and make up, isn’t that what you said, James?” Remus says lightly, knee knocking into Sirius’ under the table.

“Exactly,” James agrees. “Water under the bridge and all that crap.”

“Wise words, Prongs,” Sirius says, voice tight. He feels as though he’s about to explode from pent up pressure. He’s confused, frustrated, and just wants to get Remus alone and pin him to the wall and snog him senseless. He blinks, shaking his head. No. They have to talk. Remus better have a damn good explanation for his behaviour the past few days.

Fuck, Sirius really does just want to make out with him.

Sirius drops his fork onto his plate and gets to his feet. He can’t sit here, pretending everything’s normal and he and Remus are best of friends and nothing at all has happened. He needs answers, he needs Remus.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbles at James’ confused look. He hitches his bag onto his shoulder and makes sure it bumps into Remus as he leaves the Great Hall.

Sirius makes it up two flights of stairs before Remus catches up to him. Remus grabs his sleeve and Sirius takes a deep, bracing breath before turning to face him. Remus’ eyes are wide and honey gold. He looks nervous. Sirius pulls him into a nearby empty classroom, shutting the door gently behind them.

“What do you want, Remus?” he asks, trying his best to keep the bitterness from his tone.

“I want you,” Remus says without hesitation.

Sirius’ heart is beating a thousand times a minute. Remus takes a step towards him and Sirius takes a step back. Remus stops, and the look of hurt that crosses his face sends anger flaring through Sirius.

“Then why did you push me away?” he spits, “Why did you ignore me? Why did you make me feel like shit?”

“I -” Remus bites his lip, frowning. “I didn’t mean -”

“You didn’t mean, but you still _did_ ,” Sirius is practically shouting now. “You can’t just kiss me like that, push me off, then start fucking _flirting_ with me again!”

“Sirius, I’m sorry,” Remus pleads. “I didn’t realise -”

“Well you should have!” All the frustration from the last two days is bubbling over and spilling out of him and he can’t stop. “You should have _realised_ that it’s not okay to fuck with someone’s feelings like that. What were you thinking, that we could just go back to normal after you look disgusted with yourself for kissing me?”

“I wasn’t -”

“What were you? What were you, Remus? Because -”

“For fuck’s sake will you let me fucking speak?!”

Remus is breathing hard, hands clenched into fists. He looks angry, and it almost sets Sirius off again. Instead, Sirius crosses his arms and leans against a nearby desk, eyes narrowed. He says nothing, waiting for Remus to finish taking his deep breaths and say his piece.

“I’m _not_ disgusted with myself, or with you, let’s get that out of the fucking way,” Remus snaps. “I just didn’t much fancy having James and Pete walk in on us snogging and _that’s_ what made me panic, not kissing you.”

Sirius clenches his jaw, grudgingly accepting Remus’ excuse. He knows Remus doesn’t care for public displays of affection, he even shies away from friendly hugs.

“I...I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Remus says, not meeting Sirius’ gaze. “I just didn’t know...well, I didn’t want to...fuck.” He covers his face with his hands and drops onto a chair.

Sirius’ heart has picked up the pace again, beating hard against his ribcage. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks slowly.

Remus looks up at him, eyes blazing. “Why didn’t _you_ tell _me?_ ”

“I did!”

“Telling us you’re gay doesn’t mean ‘hey actually I really fancy you, Remus’.”

Sirius breathes hard through his nose and unfolds his arms, stepping towards Remus. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay when I did?”

“I didn’t…” Remus hesitates, biting his lip. “I don’t know. I didn’t know. I still don’t know. Not everyone has an epiphany, Sirius. I still like girls, I think. Only mostly, well, fuck.” He looks up at Sirius. “Mostly I just like you.”

Sirius sits down next to him, reaching out to take his hand. He feels like he’s floating, he needs Remus to hold him, anchor him to the ground.

“I didn’t want to ruin anything,” Remus says quietly. “Us. All of us.”

“Me neither,” Sirius says, squeezing Remus’ hand.

“Except then you kept fucking staring at me,” Remus says, smiling. “All the time. And then you come out of the shower in just a towel, and you’d obviously just been wanking, and you knew we’d be alone because James and Peter were in detention, and I just…”

Sirius’ mind is in overdrive. It’s all too much to take in at once.

“I didn’t plan - I didn’t -”

Remus raises his eyebrows.

“How did you know I’d been wanking?!”

Remus laughs and Sirius floats even higher. 

“It was a ridiculously long shower, Pads. And like I said, you’d been staring at me all day, so…”

Sirius shoves his shoulder into Remus’, laughing now too. “Someone’s full of himself.”

Remus grins and looks down at their intertwined hands. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel badly,” he says. “I really just... I think I’m just a bit of an idiot, really.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Sirius says, and Remus looks up at him. “But yes, you are an idiot.”

Remus leans closer, his lip red and swollen from biting it. Sirius finds himself leaning in as well, completely magnetised to Remus.

“Can I kiss you now?” Remus asks. “Or is that something only an idiot would ask?”

“It’s a good question,” Sirius breathes, eyes fluttering shut. “The answer is yes.”

Remus kisses him and Sirius melts. Remus’ hand comes up to trace his jaw, slides back to tug at his hair, pulling him closer. Sirius hums and opens his mouth against Remus’. He’s on the very edge of his seat in his need to be as close to Remus as possible. His hands are on Remus’ thighs and he runs them slowly up to Remus’ hips, stomach, chest, shoulders. He feels Remus shiver at the touch and Sirius can’t help the moan that escapes him.

Remus’ hand tightens in his hair, his other hand on Sirius’ back, tugging impatiently.

“C’mere,” Remus says in a voice that’s almost a growl. He grabs Sirius’ shirt and pulls him from his seat. Sirius slides onto Remus’ lap, straddling him, and suddenly the heat of Remus beneath him, in front of him, pulling him, sends the reality of the situation crashing into his brain and he throws his head back and laughs hysterically.

“What?” Remus blinks at him.

“Look at us,” Sirius gasps, tears in his eyes. His hands are gripping Remus’ shoulders, his toes skimming the floor.

“Do you want to stop?” Remus asks, genuinely concerned.

“Oh, fuck no,” Sirius insists, giggles subsiding. “It’s just, I’ve thought about this so many times. And now it’s...is this real?”

Remus grins and tucks his face into the crook of Sirius’ shoulder, kissing a light line down his neck. “It’s real.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sirius says, taking Remus’ head in his hands and kissing him fiercely.

Sirius presses himself into Remus, holding onto him as if he’ll slip away into nothing if he lets go. Remus’ hands are under his shirt, skimming his back, fingertips dipping beneath the waistline of his trousers. Sirius rocks his hips and Remus inhales sharply then groans. Every inch of Sirius is alight with the feel of him, the scent of him making his head swim.

Remus fumbles for Sirius’ belt, fingers grazing his cock through the fabric. Sirius shudders and moans into Remus’ mouth. Remus hesitates, hand still.

“Is this okay?” he breathes.

“Yes yes _yes_.” Sirius is aching with need.

Remus unfastens Sirius’ trousers with one hand, his other hand cupping Sirius’ ass from behind. His fingers curl around Sirius and Sirius’ eyes roll back with pleasure. Remus strokes him slowly, gently, mouth warm on his neck. Sirius can feel his release building deep in the pit of his stomach. 

Sirius rolls his hips faster, harder, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders, head flung back. Remus is moaning and jerking his hips up as he bites Sirius’ neck. Remus’ thumb brushes his leaking tip, working circles around it and Sirius cries out as he spills over Remus’ hand.

They’re both breathing hard. Sirius rests his forehead against Remus’, looking down at Remus’ flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He smiles and reaches to tilt Remus’ face up. Remus’ lids are heavy and a lazy smile stretches across his face.

“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” he says, kissing Sirius softly.

“I blame you,” Sirius smirks.

“I blame me, too.” Remus’ arms tighten around Sirius’ waist. “The smartest idiot at Hogwarts.”


End file.
